


The Ties that Bind

by maddienole



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Gen, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Mild Language, Pre-Canon, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddienole/pseuds/maddienole
Summary: Klaus Hargreeves has always been the strange kid. The crazy one. The odd one out. But growing up in a family full of weirdos, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.A two-shot featuring kid!Klaus and his band of protective siblings.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 17
Kudos: 255





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Just started season two (several days late) and remembered how much I loved this show (and my boy Klaus - someone please give him a hug).

It was incredibly hot that day, he remembered. The summer sun beat down upon the city streets, signaling the change in seasons and the end of another school year. The boy was running, the heavy cotton uniform he wore damp with sweat as it clung to his thin frame. He glanced back, taking note of the footsteps following close behind him, much louder and heavier than his own. The boy knew these streets well, taking an abrupt turn to the left in an effort to shake off his unwelcome pursuers. His calves ached and his chest heaved with effort as he scaled an old brick wall that separated one street from another. His pursuers began to yell, louder than before, with words laced in venom. The boy continued to run, each step growing heavier as his energy dwindled and breaths became harder to take. He was quicker than them, but less powerful by a considerable margin. They would certainly catch him eventually. 

He wasn’t sure why they were chasing him exactly, must’ve been something he said. The boy was never great with words – _no, children_ – the things that he thought were funny were most certainly not funny to anyone else. Regardless, they were mad at him (most people seemed to be these days), and did not look as though they were going to show him any mercy if they caught up to him. 

The boy wasn’t strong like Number One. He wasn’t smart like Number Five or agile like Number Two. Nobody seemed to like him like they liked Number Three and Six. And he couldn’t just disappear like Number Seven. The boy wasn’t even sure what his powers were, other than hearing many voices that he couldn’t quite decipher and the source of many headaches. 

Regardless, there was one thing that he was. 

He was _quick._

The boy continued to sprint, an escape plan forming in his mind as he approached his destination. It was called Hymen’s tree. A big thing that was rooted deep into the earth and grew far beyond what was expected. Its branches were thick and twisted together, as if it were trying to strangle itself. What a menacing thing.

And his siblings loved it. 

They said that it was named after a man called Hymen, who owned this patch of land long ago. They said he was a scientist, and that he used to experiment on plants and animals. Number Two said that he even experimented on humans. Number Five said it was bullocks.

In any case, many kids were fascinated by his tree, and many attempts were made to scale it. Few were successful.

Luckily enough, the skinny, sweaty boy with the knobby knees and the uniform that fit too loose was a far better climber than he was a student.

And he was far more clever than his pursuers.

After navigating through the narrow paths and cobblestone streets, he sprinted toward the open field that contained the tree he was seeking out. The boy was exhausted, his shoes sinking into the grass and soil, significantly slowing his momentum. The one positive was that his pursuers were likely tired as well.

He made it to Hymen’s tree, legs beginning to buckle under the strain of constant duress. He slid his nimble fingers through the cracks and curves of the bark, lifting himself up to the first branch, a snarling, twisted wooden monstrosity of nature. His feet met the grooves in the trunk that he knew so well as he continued to climb. This was not his first climb. Nor, he imagined, his last. He was well on his way to the second branch when his pursuers made it to the base. 

“Oy, Hargreeves!”

The boy ignored him, continuing his ascent.

A rock whizzed past his head, hitting the trunk and tumbling down to the base. He maneuvered to the backside of the tree and leapt for the next highest branch. A crude method but effective nonetheless. He was swinging by his arms as he attempted to find a groove in the branch that he could exploit. Another rock flew past his head, he could feel the wind whoosh past his ear. A third rock met its intended target, striking him in the upper thigh. He could hear shouts of triumph down below. 

_“Get him in the face!”_

_“Knock ‘im off!”_

A fourth rock hit his shin, a fifth barely missing his shoe. He was running out of time. With all of the strength he could muster, he swung himself back and forth, eventually gathering enough momentum to secure his legs around the second twisted branch. Although his body cried in protest, he continued upward. It was easier now, the branches beginning to thin which allowed for a tighter grip. The boy hopped from branch to branch until stopping near the top. There were very few branches left to climb, and none would support his weight. He doubted that the one he was on now would hold for long. He just hoped the boys down there didn’t know that. 

He peered down. The largest, and the leader of the group, was Robert Coleman. He came from wealth and made no effort to hide it. Tight brown curls framed his pale freckled face, eyes glistening with hatred. He was a heavyset child, always had been, something he seemed to believe was a status symbol. For only he could afford to bring the most expensive pastries for lunch or engorge himself on steak every night for supper. 

Coleman didn’t attempt to scale the tree. The boy doubted he would be able to make it to the first branch. Even if he did, the higher branches wouldn’t support his wide frame. He almost hoped he’d try, though. 

“Go on,” Coleman hissed to his other companions. “After him.”

The second boy, John…some foreign name the boy couldn’t pronounce, was the first to try the climb.

It took only two unsuccessful attempts before John admitted defeat, much to Coleman’s chagrin. The boy knew what the self-appointed leader was thinking, whether or not it would be worth it to wait this one out. He certainly could just come after him tomorrow. 

He then focused his attention to the last member of the group. The smallest of the three, red-haired boy, was rearing up to climb. A last-ditch effort which proved futile in the end. Red-haired boy had given up quicker than John. The boys had regrouped at the bottom, presumably to compose another plan of attack. 

The boy fidgeted up on his branch. He tried his best not to move in fear of causing it to break, but his muscles were cramping badly. He didn’t want to climb down to a lower, more stable branch either. That might renew interest in his pursuers trying to climb the tree again. 

Coleman turned his face up.

“You can’t stay up there forever, Hargreeves!” he shouted. “And when you get down, we’ll be waiting. You’re dead, you hear me?”

 _So much for thinking they’d leave_ , the boy thought ruefully. He grew more agitated by the minute, taking note of the sun’s movements. It would set soon. He didn’t worry about getting in trouble, father likely wasn’t home. In this case, he wished he was. Maybe he could’ve sent someone to help him after noticing his extended absence. Or maybe one of his siblings would have realized that he wasn’t among them. Number Six, surely? Or maybe they had noticed and simply didn’t care. Why would they?

He glanced down. The three of them seemed to have camped out by the base of the tree. The boy accidentally made eye contact with red-haired boy. His third pursuant didn’t say a word, but his eyes expressed, what, sympathy? 

No. He was sick of sympathy. That’s all people ever gave him in the last several years. He turned away quickly.

 _“Wrong move,”_ he could hear Number Five saying to him.

The abrupt change in weight distribution on the branch caused a rather awful sounding cracking noise. Realizing his impending fate, the boy scrambled off the branch to the safety of the ones below. He could hear one of the boys below shouting something, but the adrenaline pumping through his body filtered out any outside noises. The upper branch snapped, and the boy rushed to avoid it. He leaped down again.

_“Wrong move,” _Number Five said again.__

____

It was. The jump was imperfect. Only one foot made contact with the branch. This wasn’t enough to stop the forward momentum of the rest of his body as it plummeted down to the earth.

____


	2. The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the first Umbrella Academy fic I ever wrote, and also the only one I haven't actually finished! I have about 400 explanations for why it has taken me so long to post the second part to this story, but instead I will just thank everyone who stuck it out for this long.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos, bookmarks, and especially comments, I want you to know that I read and cherish every single one. And (finally), here's the long overdue ending.

The boy was falling, falling, _falling_...

People were screaming things...things that he couldn't quite make out. The voices were loud - _so terribly loud_ \- practically deafening him while the wind hit his face with a vengeance.

_I'm doing to die._

It was inevitable, wasn't it? What a _stupid_ way to go out, falling out of a tree. He wonders if his father would care. He wonders if his siblings would care. Number One and Two and Three and Five and...

_Wait..._

Was he turning blue?

There was blue all around...light and misty and it burned as it made contact with his skin.

" _Hang on_ ," a small voice whispered into his ear.

A _familiar_ voice.

The boy squeezes his eyes shut as he feels two skinny arms tightening around his chest. The motion makes him lightheaded - _dizzy, almost_ \- and he thinks of how lucky he was that he didn't eat his lunch this afternoon. A moment passes, then another, before things just...stopped.

Oh, he was _definitely_ going to vomit.

The boy slowly blinks open his eyes, having to immediately squint as the rays from the setting sun hit his face. His neck hurt - _whiplash, perhaps?_ \- and he then discovered that he was sitting on...was it grass? It _must_ be - sharp and itchy and irritable to his bare legs. He definitely wasn't where he was before.

"I knew I could do it!" he heard from behind him. The boys whips around - _much too quickly_ \- and immediately wraps his arms around his stomach in an attempt to suppress the dry heaves.

 _Ah._ It was Number Five. In all honesty, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"I _told_ father I could," Five continues, rising to his feet and wiping the dirt from his knees. Number Five wasn't his favorite sibling, though certainly not his _least_ favorite either. They never quite sought out each other's company in the same way that say, One and Three did, but there was no animosity in his gaze. Exhaustion, perhaps, but no outright anger. And for now that was good enough.

Number Five stumbles slightly, gripping a tree branch in an effort to stabilize himself. The blue mist around his fist soon fizzles out, and the boy was finally able to connect what exactly just happened in his overtired, sluggish brain.

"I thought you couldn't _tel_...uh... _tell_ - _telp_..."

_What was the word again?_

" _Teleport_ ," Number Five interrupts, rolling his eyes. He brushes his dark hair out of his face, then uses his free hand to further steady himself against the trunk.

"Right," the boy responds quietly, suddenly finding interest in the ground. "I...mean, with two people...that's all."

Number Five smiles - if only slightly. Deciding that the act of standing was too difficult, he slides back towards the ground, back still resting against the trunk of the tree. "I _told_ father I could do it," he repeats, breathing heavily. "He never listens to me, you know. He's holding me back."

Only Number Five could say things like that. The boy didn't know how his brother found the courage to rebel against their father. Number Five was not big at all - _not like Number One_ \- in fact, he was probably the smallest of all their siblings. But his attitude made him seem so much larger.

"...I've been trying to get father to let me practice teleporting with another person for ages!" he continues haughtily. "Well who's laughing now? Mister _'you don't have the stamina'_ my ass..."

"How did you find me?" the boy blurts out, his nails digging into his palms. It was hot outside. It was _far_ too hot outside. He was sweaty and tired and his legs and head hurt _bad_.

Number Five raises an eyebrow at his outburst. "We have trackers, remember?"

"But only dad..."

Five snorts. "Screw dad. If he didn't want me looking at his tracking stuff then he shouldn't have made it so easy for me to find it in the first place."

The boy wanted to say _"but you're the only one who can teleport_ ," but - _wisely_ \- bit his tongue.

"Anyways Four," his brother continued. "What'd you do to piss those guys off? You could have just gone to Griddy's with the rest of us."

"I dunno," he shrugged, averting his gaze. "Wanted to get away I guess."

"It's from _Number One_ isn't it _?_ Wouldn't blame you for that, the arrogant twat..."

Before Number Four could respond, the sound of a scream split through the atmosphere.

"Ah." Five's ever-present smirk grew wider. "The cavalry has arrived."

#

The two boys trudged through whatever forest-like area Number Five landed them in. It _shouldn't_ have been difficult - _the simple act of walking_ \- but neither of them were in the best condition at the moment. Four was half tempted to ask Number Five if he could teleport them back to Hymen's tree, but one quick look at his brother told him that wasn't going to happen. Five was clearly struggling to put one foot in front of the other, but pride wouldn't allow him to ask for assistance. Four almost forgot how draining Five's powers were, and that was when he was only teleporting himself. Maybe it was more a shock that he was still upright after moving two people at the same time.

Let it be known, of course, that _he_ wasn't doing much better. Each step was a battle, and his legs were under constant threat of giving out. The walk wasn't far, half a mile at most (probably less to be honest - Four had zero spatial awareness), but it felt like they were trying to complete a marathon.

It seemed like hours had passed, though he was sure it was only minutes. They could hear more sounds - voices and _yelling_. It _almost_ sounded like their training sessions, if not for the fact that they were miles away from the mansion. When Four and Five finally stepped through the edge of the tree line onto the barren field, they were confronted by their remaining siblings.

_(Sans Number Seven, of course, who would be little help in this endeavor regardless.)_

Coleman too was there, squirming in Number One's tight grip while his eyes darted around like a wild animal. John ForeignName and red-haired boy were nowhere to be seen.

"That's not fair!" Five yelled, crossing his arms in exasperation. "You said you wouldn't start without me!"

"Shoulda got here earlier," Number Two grumbled, twirling a knife around his fingers. "Ow, what?" he hissed when subsequently elbowed in the side by Number Three.

"Stop being rude," she said sternly, making her way over to him and Five. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "I'm glad you're okay," Three whispered, soft enough so no one else could hear.

Was he crying?

 _God_ , he was so... _unbearably._..tired.

"I'm fine," he lied, drawing away. "Honest."

Three raised an eyebrow but didn't think to push it. Five, however, had no such qualms. "He's _not_ fine," his smaller brother interrupted. "He was falling out of Hymen's tree and it's lucky that _I_ got here before the rest of you or..."

" _What_?"

"It'll _really_ not a big deal," Four interceded weakly.

" _...he'd be a pancake by now. I teleported both of us you know..."_

" _...was he being chased..."_

" _...I dunno. Probably. Did I mention that I teleported both of us? And do you remember when dad said that I couldn't? And..."_

"Can we go _home_ now?" Four interrupted again, louder than before. Three turned back towards him, shooting him a soft smile. "What would you like us to do with Coleman over there?" she asked, motioning towards the shaking boy that was stuck in Number One's iron grip.

"Three rumored that red-headed kid back to town," Number Six piped up. "And Two..."

"...I stabbed that other kid in the..."

"Stop being dramatic," Three cut in. "He didn't lose _that_ much blood."

"That's what I _wanted_ you to think, thank you very..."

"Guys!" One growled. "What am I supposed to do with him?" Coleman was batting at Number One's chest in some feeble attempt at escape. "Who are you people?" the boy in question cried. "How did she make Jason go away? How did..."

"Shut up!" Two hissed, stepping in closer. "I say we shank him."

_"We don't do that, Two."_

_"Why not? He didn't have a problem almost killing Four..."_

"Maybe...we should let _Number Four_ decide," Six said quietly, sparing a glance in his direction.

The boy suddenly found five pairs of eyes boring into him. No, it was definitely too hot outside. Was he overheating? Is this what heatstroke felt like? Was he dying?

"I...I don't..." he sputtered, trying to get the words to leave his mouth.

The silence stretched to over a minute before it was once again broken.

" _I still say we shank him."_

" _Father said to try not and kill people..."_

" _I didn't say we kill him. Just make him bleed a little."_

" _You guys are being ridiculous."_

" _No, you are."_

" _Guys...can we just get alo-"_

" _We can't just let him torture our brother..."_

" _...which is why we should shank him..."_

" _Two!"_

"Just let him go!" Four finally gasped, feeling ready to faint. There wasn't a single part of his body that wasn't throbbing. He didn't care about Robert Coleman anymore. He didn't _care_. All he wanted now was a soft bed and some air conditioning. "I...think he learned his lesson," he added on hastily when met with accusatory glares.

He could see Coleman nodding enthusiastically out of the corner of his eye, and his stomach clenched at the sight. Four certainly wasn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart (as little it may be), but at this point he was too tired to tell him that. Instead he just stood as his siblings whispered amongst themselves. He realized Five had sunk to the ground, as though the act of standing had become to difficult a task. Four was tempted to join him.

"Are you sure you just want to let him go?" Three asked hesitantly, eyebrows furrowed.

Four nodded but remained quiet. He could feel the sweat dripping unceremoniously down his face - it almost felt like he was caught in an inescapable blanket of humidity that was slowly absorbing him into its clutches.

Was he being over-dramatic?

_Maybe._

Did he care?

_Absolutely not._

He really just wanted to go home before his legs gave out like dear Number Five.

Number Three sighed, turning back towards One, Two and Six. "So...can I leave now?" Coleman sputters, still trying to escape from One's grip. Two shoots him a death glare, waving his knife menacingly in the larger boy's face. With one last glance at Four, Number One finally releases him, and the boy drops to the ground like a deadweight.

"If I see you messing with my brother again," he starts slowly, eyes fixed on the sweaty boy below him, "then we won't be as nice the next time. Got it?"

Coleman nods, struggling to his feet and quickly dashing out of sight. Four releases a breath that he didn't realize he was holding. Three turns back around, enveloping him in a hug once again.

It felt...nice. And Four liked nice things, as little as they may come to him.

"Let's go home," Three whispers into his neck.

Four never heard more beautiful words in his life.

#

If he thought the trip home would be easy, Four was sadly mistaken. The pink and yellow sky soon turned dark and a chill permeated the atmosphere. While it was a welcome change from his presumed heat exhaustion over the course of the day's events, it soon became a bit _too_ cold for his liking, and their journey was far from over.

It didn't help that Four couldn't walk very well - _or very fast_ \- and this delay was slowing the group down even further. He did take some comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only deadweight in the group. Number Five lasted about fifteen minutes before fainting, which in turn meant that Number One had to carry him the rest of the way home.

( _"You would think he knows his limits by now, right?"_ Six had whispered to him as One slung their smallest brother over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.)

They did finally get home at some ungodly hour, Four struggling to keep his eyes open as they turned the door handle and stepped into the living room. All he needed to do was to remain conscious until he dragged himself to bed. That's all he had to do.

_That's all..._

(He hit the floor almost immediately.)

Maybe it was unfair of him to pass out and let his siblings get the brunt of their father's anger, but he would gladly switch places with them now, given that he was stuck in the infirmary and not in his _much_ more comfortable bed.

He drifts, skirting just on the edges of consciousness. Time passes in a haze, and he could hear voices in the room - _whispers_ , but barely. He could feel the cool touch of his mother on his exposed skin, rubbing salves on his torn up legs, inserting an IV in his arm to put extra fluids in his badly dehydrated body.

"It's alright, dear," she murmurs in that honeyed voice of hers. One that he wants to cocoon himself in and never leave. "You can go back to bed."

And he drifts again.

" _Is he awake?"_

" _Shhhhh."_

" _We're not supposed to be down here..."_

" _Father is asleep, it's okay..."_

" _Shhhhhh."_

" _Be quiet."_

" _No - you're the one who's not being quiet..."_

" _Are you sure he's not awake..."_

" _Just leave him alone guys."_

" _We're just checking, okay?"_

" _Are you sure he's gonna be alright?"_

" _God, we're gonna wake him up!"_

Somehow - even through the pain and the exhaustion and the probable sunburns - Four smiles, finally allowing for sleep to take him into its welcoming clutches.

" _We probably already woke him up."_

" _And Five, too."_

" _Maybe we should just leave..."_

" _...no we can stay down here tonight, as long as we're up and ready by training time tomorrow..."_

" _...are you sure..."_

" _...we can't just leave him down here by himself..."_

" _... well technically Five's down here too..."_

" _... Five doesn't count. He passes out all the time."_

" _Shhhh."_

" _Stop 'shhhhhshing' me..."_

" _We're not even being that loud, Three..."_

" _You're so loud the next house down could probably hear us..."_

_"People on Mars could probably hear us..."_

" _...you're full of bullshit..."_

_"I'm rubber and you're glue..."_

" _...you're all full of bullshit..."_

_"...whatever you say bounces off me..."_

" _...I hate this family."_

_"...and sticks on you..."_

_"WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT UP?"_

_"..."_

_"Great, you woke up Five."_

_"Shit."_

_"I hate all of you."_

" _Love you too, Five. Love you too."_


End file.
